


free will is exhausting

by ifreet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifreet/pseuds/ifreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From bluebrocade's prompt "Dean comforts Cas after his very bad day at work. (not w/sexytiems. with donuts! and a warm bath! and peanut butter cups and thai food and a cuddly kitteh and fuzzy socks...)"</p>
<p>Mostly, Dean went with food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	free will is exhausting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluebrocade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebrocade/gifts).



"Nice of you to grace us with your presence," Dean said, but every nonverbal cue shouted annoyance rather than gratitude.  
  
His patience well and truly taxed, Castiel reiterated the fact that surely ought to have sunk in by now. "There's a war in Heaven, Dean."  
  
"People are dying, Cas."  
  
"Angels are dying," he returned. Even from earth he could see the final silvern flash of angelic being spilling over the hands and blades of their brethren. Castiel had no business on earth when above his followers fought battles in which victory felt a lot like grief, and Dean kept bothering him with -- Castiel pushed aside an emotion closer to irritation than true wrath (and wondered, again, whether his repeated resurrections within the vessel that had been James Novak had somehow afflicted him with a touch of humanity). Dean was Dean, and Castiel had long since accepted that his priorities skewed towards the present and the visible. Castiel needed to return to the front, needed to win, because winning meant he'd been right, and in the absence of their Father, being right was the closest he would come to absolution for the light and lives that had spilled over his own hands. He had to focus, and Dean would continue to distract him with demanding prayers until he dealt with Dean's current problem.  
  
So he dealt with it, and he left.  
  
The next time he felt that persistent tug, he was in the middle of another discussion with Rachel about free will and the uses thereof. He'd come to appreciate obedience while actively engaged with Raphael's forces; however, Castiel would have appreciated having someone helping him plan those battles who understood that the best use of free will was not necessarily slavish devotion to guessing at the hidden divine will.  
  
He nearly welcomed the distraction. "Dean Winchester is calling for me."  
  
Rachel gave off a faint whiff of disapproval but didn't insist that he stay. Perhaps she found their discussions as taxing as he did.  
  
Castiel was unsurprised to find Dean in a motel room in North Dakota, though he did not sense Sam (almost Sam, another failure that victory would have to atone for) in the immediate area. Unusual, since Dean tended to keep Sam even closer now that he knew Sam wasn't entirely whole. "Dean," he greeted.  
  
"Is this a bad time?" Dean asked, then went on in a rush, "I mean, war in heaven, right, but can you stay for a few?"  
  
Castiel wished, not for the first time, that his perception was not quite so limited in this vessel and tipped his head as though that would allow him to access different information than he already had: tense expression, rapid speech, center of gravity pushed forward, and hands that gripped one another tight. Perhaps Sam had gone missing.  
  
"I can stay."  
  
Dean relaxed, shifting back on his heels and releasing his hands. Castiel reassessed: whatever Dean wanted, Sam must be fine. "Great. Take a load off." He gestured towards the room's small table. Castiel frowned and wondered why Dean couldn't move the bags and boxes himself and where Dean wanted them moved to, if not on the table. "I mean, sit down." Dean sounded amused, as he generally did when Castiel fell afoul of the limitations of human language. He had... missed that actually. The angels on his side had begun to act as though he were infallible. He sat at the table, and Dean flashed a smile then sat in the other chair and pushed one of the bags closer to Castiel.  
  
It appeared to contain hamburgers. He gave Dean a questioning look.  
  
Dean, surprisingly, looked away.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
At a volume that a human might not have been able to hear, Dean muttered, "Of course we have to talk about it." He raised his eyes to meet Castiel's again. "Sam said I was being kind of a dick."  
  
He decided it was wiser not to agree aloud.  
  
He sighed. "I'm sorry."  
  
Castiel examined the items on the table and realized that everything on it was a food or drink that he had expressed even a slight preference for during his period of falling: hamburgers, chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter cups, doughnuts, whiskey... Some, like the hamburgers, had been favorites of James Novak, but now that Castiel could see the gesture for what it was, even those seemed oddly touching. He inclined his head, then reached for a burger. "Thank you, Dean."


End file.
